


Linger

by walkalittleline



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Day 1, M/M, brief mention of Molly's death, clayleb week, ghost molly, implication of widomauk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 01:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkalittleline/pseuds/walkalittleline
Summary: “Oh, he’s back again, is he?”Caduceus jumps and hisses in pain as hot tea sloshes over the rim of his cup and onto his fingers. He sets the cup down quickly and shakes his hand off, wincing as he dunks his fingers into the cool water basin and scowling at the semi-translucent lavender tiefling perched on the edge of the counter and grinning innocently.“You have to stop doing that,” Caduceus mutters as he wipes his fingers dry on his shirt, scooping up his tea and moving away from the window.“Sorry,” the tiefling says brightly, not sounding it at all as he slides off the counter to follow him across the room with a swish of his long, colorful coat.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 12
Kudos: 239





	Linger

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this six months ago and have just been sitting on it but I think it fits the prompt alright so here it is.

Caduceus isn't smitten.

He has never and would never call himself _ smitten_, especially not with someone he knows is there to mourn a lost loved one.

Intrigued maybe. Interested? Yes, that's a safe word to use, he thinks.

There's something about the man he's seen coming about the cemetery the past few weeks—sometimes alone, sometimes with others—that he finds... interesting.

He tries not to stare when he sees him through the window of his cottage, bustling about to distract himself with making tea so as not to linger over the water basin ogling—no, not ogling, he's just looking, there's no harm in looking—the man as he stands at one of the more recent graves with a detached sort of sadness to his expression. 

Sometimes he can't stop himself though, swirling his tea absently as he peers through the window and across the cemetery at him. He’s handsome, with a sharp nose and auburn hair and matching scruffy beard and even scruffier coat. He’s never gone to check the name on the grave he’s looking at, feels like he’d be intruding even further on his privacy when he’s already toeing a fine line as it is. So he watches guiltily from afar, lets himself be _ interested _ without getting involved.

“Oh, he’s back again, is he?”

Caduceus jumps and hisses in pain as hot tea sloshes over the rim of his cup and onto his fingers. He sets the cup down quickly and shakes his hand off, wincing as he dunks his fingers into the cool water basin and scowling at the semi-translucent lavender tiefling perched on the edge of the counter and grinning innocently.

“You have to stop doing that,” Caduceus mutters as he wipes his fingers dry on his shirt, scooping up his tea and moving away from the window.

“Sorry,” the tiefling says brightly, not sounding it at all as he slides off the counter to follow him across the room with a swish of his long, colorful coat. 

Caduceus slides into one of the seats at the tiny table crammed into the far corner of the room, sighing when the tiefling takes the seat opposite him with a broad smirk, propping his chin on his fists.

“Haven’t talked to him yet, huh?” he says knowingly. “Why not? He’s cute.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “I went out and took a peek last time he was here. He’s got freckles on his nose that you can’t see from here. His name’s Caleb, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Caduceus lies, blowing the steam carefully from his tea before taking a sip.

The tiefling chuckles, looking doubtful.

“Sure you weren’t,” he says with a sly wink. “You know, you don’t even know _ my _ name so I’d say that’s a big step forward for you. Learning his.”

Caduceus gives him a flat look, clicking his tongue when he grins toothily back, his sharp canines flashing white. 

“I don’t need to know your name,” Caduceus says, “whatever it is keeping you here will work itself out and then you won’t be my problem anymore.”

“Caduceus, I’m hurt,” the tiefling says, laying a hand on his chest with a look of mock offense. “I thought it would be your job to help me pass on. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“You showed up in my house uninvited and won’t leave me alone,” Caduceus responds, wrinkling his nose, “that doesn’t sound like a very good friend.”

The tiefling chuckles. “_You _ haven’t had many friends then, because that’s exactly what they’re like,” he says, examining his fingernails with a bored sort of look. 

He stands smoothly, almost floating towards the window to peer out and clicking his tongue sadly. “Looks like he’s leaving again,” he says, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “Wonder when he’ll be back again.” He looks back to Caduceus. “You should invite him for tea next time he comes alone.”

“I’m not doing that,” Caduceus mutters, flushing at the prospect and ignoring the tiefling’s snickering. 

“You _ like _ him,” the tiefling all but sings, his long tail curling and flicking through the air sinuously. He rolls his eyes when Caduceus doesn’t respond, stepping towards the closed door to the cottage and slipping through it smoothly as if it wasn’t there. He pokes his head back in after a few seconds.

“You really should reconsider inviting him in for tea,” he says. “Seems like he could use it.”

Caduceus ignores him, sipping his tea and listening for the telltale whisper of wind that happens every time the tiefling disappears. He’s been badgering him on and off for the past three weeks, popping up randomly to complain loudly about how much he hates not being able to enjoy a proper bath anymore or simply scare the living daylights out of Caduceus when he walks out into his kitchen in the morning with the tiefling already waiting for him expectantly. His focus had changed when this man, this _ Caleb_, had shown up for the first time just over two weeks prior with his friends to bury someone. 

Caduceus had talked to a somber half-orc, who’d explained sadly that they’d lost a friend not long ago and were looking to give him a proper burial. Caduceus had given them their pick of plots when they requested to do the digging themselves, watching from the window as Caleb had waved his hand and summoned an earthen paw to scoop up fresh earth while the others lowered the carefully wrapped body into the ground. Even from this distance, he could see the sadness in their faces as they covered the body and clung to each other, the little blue tiefling carving a simple headstone to mark the grave. He’d stopped watching then, feeling as if he was invading their privacy.

When Caleb had returned the following day, alone this time, and stood at the foot of the grave with his hands in his pockets, simply staring at the headstone, Caduceus couldn’t help but watch him curiously from the window. It was then that the tiefling had popped up again at his side, following his gaze and looking vaguely sad.

“You should talk to him,” he’d said simply. “Looks like he needs it.”

“He has friends,” Caduceus had replied, the excuse weak even to his own ears. “If he—if any of them need to talk, I’m here.”

From that moment, the tiefling had appeared every time Caleb did, hounding Caduceus relentlessly to talk to him, urging him to invite him in and regaling him with talk of how _ handsome _ and _ wonderful _ he seemed, Caduceus apparently doing a poor job of hiding his… interest in him.

“Why do you care so much if I talk to him?” he asks the tiefling a few days after the suggestion of inviting Caleb in for tea. The cemetery is empty, Caduceus enjoying the mostly calm moment, sunlight mottling his skin as it filters through the branches overhead. The tiefling is seated on the ground next to him, his legs folded under him and his elbows propped on his knees as he stares across the lines of worn headstones absently.

"Like you said,” he says with a shrug, “there's something or… someone keeping me here and I'm not leaving until it's fixed. Unfinished business and all that. I'm sure you understand, hanging around dead people all day and all."

"Yeah, well most of them don't usually talk back unless I make them," Caduceus says, closing his eyes serenely against the warm sunshine. “That doesn’t really answer my question, though.”

The tiefling clears his throat evasively. “Well, I just figured, I could give you a hand and maybe you could help me figure out… whatever’s going on with me.”

Caduceus opens one eye curiously to look down at him. He looks like smoke turned solid, shimmery and almost invisible in the sunlight, catching the light like so many motes of dust. It’s weirdly beautiful, the way he shifts and gleams with every tiny movement.

“Well, if I think of anything, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Caduceus says, folding his hands across his chest and letting his eyes drift shut again, smiling when he hears the tiefling make a small, amused noise next to him. When he opens his eyes again, he’s vanished from his side and Caduceus feels a small twinge of guilt in his chest.

He’s in the middle of brewing a pot of tea two days later, humming quietly, when there’s a knock at his door. He pauses and looks up from the teapot, only half surprised by the reappearance of the tiefling beside the door, watching him expectantly.

Caduceus gives him a warning look before going to answer the door, blinking in disbelief at the sight of Caleb on his doorstep, clutching a bundle of wildflowers in one hand and looking faintly embarrassed. His eyes are bright, clear blue. He has freckles on his nose.

“Oh, hello,” Caduceus says dumbly, ignoring the snort of laughter from the tiefling, who has sidled up to Caleb and is now walking around him with a curious sort of look. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering,” Caleb begins nervously. He has a soft, lilting accent that takes Caduceus by surprise. “Could I place these on the grave of my friend? I did not know if that was allowed.” He holds up the bundle of fresh wildflowers and the tiefling pauses in his scrutiny of him, touching his hand lightly to his heart with an affected look.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Caduceus says, nodding. “Whatever you need to do.”

“Invite him for tea,” the tiefling hisses, now standing behind Caleb, peering over his shoulder at Caduceus expectantly.

“Thank you,” Caleb says, smiling gratefully. 

“_I__nvite him in_.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Come _ on_.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice day.”

Caleb turns to leave, passing directly through the tiefling, who makes a frustrated noise and gives Caduceus an incredulous look.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” 

Caleb pauses a few steps from the door and the tiefling looks between the two of them excitedly.

“Ah,” Caleb says quietly, glancing back at him with a strained smile. “Perhaps another time. My friends are waiting for me.” He nods back down the row of headstones to where the now familiar dark-skinned human and tiny goblin are watching them warily.

“Of course,” Caduceus says feebly, feeling his shoulders slump but forcing a gracious smile. “My door’s always open.”

Caleb gives him a curious look but smiles all the same. “Thank you.” He nods and turns to head back towards his friends, Caduceus standing in the doorway for a few seconds before slipping back inside, the tiefling drifting in at his side.

"Hm, tough break,” he says with a despondent sigh, “Maybe next time, big guy."

He makes as if to pat Caduceus on the shoulder, grimacing when his hand passes through Caduceus like it's passing through water. He sighs and vanishes with a soft _ whoosh _ before Caduceus can say anything. He watches Caleb through the window as he lays the flowers on the grave before disappearing between the distant headstones with his friends and tries to convince himself he's not disappointed.

The tiefling is gone for a few days after this incident and Caduceus tells himself he doesn’t miss having him around despite the fact that he _ has _ been getting used to his company. He’s spent so much of his time alone, it had been strange refamiliarizing himself with being around someone else on a regular basis. It was… nice.

He’s working his way through the headstones, gathering up fallen sticks between the rows, when he spots a familiar ghostly figure seated under a distant tree at the end of the row. His eyes are closed, head tilted back and legs folded under him, dressed in the same multi-colored coat and once white frock shirt that’s darkened at the chest with what he assumes is blood from whatever wound killed him. He’d never asked.

The tiefling opens one eye when he approaches, quirking an eyebrow at him inquisitively.

“How did you die?” Caduceus says, stopping a few feet from him, a bundle of sticks still clutches in his arms. 

The tiefling closes his eyes again and makes a soft, scoffing noise. “Thought that was fairly obvious,” he says, gesturing to the dark stain across his chest.

“No, I know,” Caduceus says, frowning. “I mean… what happened?”

The tiefling sighs and opens his eyes, though they’re fixed on his lap.

“I was… trying to protect people,” he says after a few seconds of consideration. He laughs, quiet and self-deprecating. “I didn’t do a very good job.”

“Are they alive?”

The tiefling smiles sadly and nods. “They are.”

“Then I’d say you did a pretty good job,” Caduceus replies, smiling when he receives a faintly incredulous look in response to this.

Caleb shows up the following day and Caduceus pretends to be weeding the flowerbeds in front of his cottage while secretly watching him out of the corner of his eye, feeling equal parts guilty and nervous as he tries to word another invitation for him in his head. His friends aren’t with him today and he sits alone at the same grave as always, silent and immobile apart from turning something over in his fingers.

“Are you gonna ask him?” the tiefling is seated next to him on the row of stones lining the flowerbed, looking eager and hopeful.

“Mm, yeah,” Caduceus mutters, quiet enough he knows Caleb won’t hear him essentially talking to himself.

“About time,” the tiefling replies, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Caduceus rolls his eyes but can’t suppress a small smile.

“He’s getting up,” the tiefling says excitedly, smacking at Caduceus’ shoulder though his hand merely passes right through him. 

Caduceus turns and straightens up to sit on his knees, looking back at Caleb as he dusts off his long, tattered coat.

“Go,” the tiefling urges him. “What are you doing, _ go _!”

Caduceus merely stares as Caleb adjusts his collar. His breath catches when he looks in his direction and meets Caduceus’ gaze. 

“Get up!” the tiefling all but shouts, leaping to his own feet and gesturing towards Caleb almost frantically.

Caduceus doesn’t move, simply swallows and smiles shyly when Caleb raises one hand in a small wave before turning and striding away. Caduceus watches him leave, closing his eyes and breathing out a long discontented exhale as he slumps down into a seated position in the grass. He wipes his hand across his sweaty brow and looks down at his dirt-crusted fingers, ignoring the glare being leveled at him from the tiefling.

“What was I supposed to do?” he says exasperatedly when he can’t take it any longer. “Why do you even care?”

The tiefling huffs and disappears with a _ whoosh _ of air, Caduceus frowning at the spot for a full ten seconds before he returns to his weeding.

Caleb returns the following day but the tiefling is surprisingly absent. Caduceus tried not to feel guilty but can’t stop the twist in his gut when he watches Caleb leave without speaking to him again, oddly feeling like he’s obligated to do so for his strange companion. He turns away from the window when Caleb vanishes through the trees, jumping at the sight of the tiefling seated at his kitchen table. He’s not looking at Caduceus, staring down at his hands where they’re clasped on the table instead.

“You’re going to lose your chance,” he says quietly.

Caduceus sighs and begins methodically scrubbing his teapot clean in the water basin for something to do with his hands. He senses the tiefling stand and move across the room towards him, leaning back on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest, fixing Caduceus with a pointed stare.

"What if he stops coming altogether and you miss your chance?” he says, sounding increasingly frustrated. “What then?" 

Caduceus picks up a clean strip of linen and begins drying the teapot carefully. "Why does it matter to you so much?"

"It just does,” the tiefling says, a sharp edge to his voice now.

"_Why_?" Caduceus sets the teapot down firmly on the counter and stares at him expectantly.

"Because he _ needs _ you and you're just letting him stand out there and suffer!” the tiefling cries. “He needs you and you aren't there for him! And you’re going to miss your chance to tell him what he means to you!”

Caduceus stares at him, brow furrowing as he takes in the tiefling’s suddenly skittish expression, the way he’s avoiding his eye and wrapping his arms around himself protectively.

"This isn't about me... is it?" he says softly.

The tiefling sighs, looking defeated. "Come with me," he mutters, striding off through the closed door. Caduceus follows him silently out between rows of headstones under the warm summer sun. He frowns in confusion when he leads him to the one Caleb is always sitting at. His eyes scan the crude inscription for the first time since the grave was dug.

_ Mollymauk Tealeaf _

_ Left every town better than he found it _

"I don't understand,” Caduceus says, glancing up at the tiefling where he’s standing next to him, arms folded across his chest.

"Ask me what my name is,” he says quietly.

"Okay,” Caduceus says slowly, “What's your name?" 

"Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service,” the tiefling replies with an unenthusiastic, flourishing bow, “Molly to my friends." 

Caduceus gapes at him.

“Wait,” he says, trying to wrap his head around this new information. “It… it was _ you _ ? You _ know him _?”

“Knew him. But yes, I did,” Molly says quietly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Caduceus says, disbelieving and still incredibly confused.

“Well you never asked,” Molly replies haughtily. “You’re actually a pretty poor host as far as ghosts are concerned.”

Caduceus ignores this, pressing onward. “You had feelings for him, didn’t you?” he says, thinking of Caleb, of how touched Molly had seemed when he’d brought the flowers for his grave and how much he’d bragged upon him to Caduceus when trying to convince him to approach him.

Molly doesn’t respond but Caduceus can see the answer written across his features, melancholic and regretful.

“And you never told him,” Caduceus adds sympathetically. He shakes his head, frowning. “But then why are you trying to get _ me _ together with him?” 

“Well, I can’t exactly do much now, can I?” Molly says, gesturing helplessly down at his ghostly form. “I’m all… incorporeal. Hard to kiss someone who can’t see or touch you. Maybe I’m a little bit of a voyeur, too, who knows,” he adds with a half-hearted smirk.

“Mollymauk...” 

“I just want him to be happy, okay?” Molly says. He smiles sadly up at Caduceus. “I think you could maybe make him happy where I couldn’t.” 

Caduceus ignores the flush he feels at that. "Is that what's keeping you here? The fact that you never told him how you felt?" 

Molly shrugs and fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. "I guess."

"Do you want me to tell him?" Caduceus offers, feeling like it’s the least he can do after the way he’s treated Molly the last few weeks.

"What's the point?" Molly says with a sigh, perching on his own headstone.

"You'll get to... move on,” Caduceus says, shrugging.

Molly smirks. "Sick of me hanging around, huh?" 

"Eh, you've grown on me,” Caduceus replies good-naturedly. He looks at Molly more seriously. "Next time he comes I'll talk to him. I promise." 

Caduceus is in the middle of watering the many plants scattered around his cottage the next morning when he hears Molly flit into existence in the kitchen. He sets down his watering can and heads out to see him standing at the window over the water basin, staring sadly out across the cemetery. Caleb is seated at his grave again, rolling something over in his hands and wearing that same distant look on his face.

“Will you come with me?” Caduceus says, moving to stand next to him at the window.

Molly nods mutely and follows him out into the morning sunlight. There’s an air of finality between them as they walk, and Caduceus can’t help but feel an impending sense of loss at the idea of Molly disappearing from his life entirely when he welcomes Caleb into it.

He sees Caleb still and slip whatever is in his hands into his pockets when he approaches, turning his head slightly towards him without actually looking back.

“Good morning, Mister Caleb,” he says, stopping a few feet behind them. He panics briefly when Caleb frowns at him knowing his name, hearing Molly groan and laugh incredulously behind him. “Your friend mentioned your name,” he says hastily. It’s not technically a lie.

Caleb nods and turns back to looking at Molly’s headstone.

“You come here a lot to see him,” Caduceus says gently, nodding to the grave. “Your friend was well loved.”

Caleb smiles sadly and Caduceus watches Molly walk past him to sit on the headstone, looking down at Caleb with an expression of mingled regret and longing.

“He was,” Caleb says softly. “More than he knew, I think.”

Molly closes his eyes with a pained look, swallowing as silvery, immaterial tears slide down his cheeks.

“He cared about you,” Caduceus says, looking at Molly as he says it. “A lot.”

Caleb breathes out a quick, doubtful sound.

“How do you know this?” Caleb says wryly, glancing back at him. 

"Intuition, I suppose,” Caduceus replies, smiling when Molly chuckles wetly. “It's kind of my job to know these things, spending every day around it.”

Caleb smiles stiffly but doesn’t respond beyond that.

"It's hard…” Caduceus continues, taking a step closer so he’s standing at Caleb’s shoulder, “letting things go like this, I know. People often tend to leave our lives as abruptly as they came but it never really gets easier.”

Caleb sighs and nods absently, reaching into his pocket to pull out whatever he’d been holding before, turning it over in his fingers. It’s a small, heart-shaped pendant on a delicate golden chain, glinting brightly in the sunlight as he lets the chain pool in his palm. Caduceus sees Molly straighten where he’s still sitting on his headstone, giving Caduceus a significant look.

“Was that his?” Caduceus says carefully, watching Caleb nod wordlessly.

“I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it,” he says, staring down at the pendant and brushing his thumb over it. “It feels like… if I have it, I still have part of him. But I think it belongs with him.” He sighs indecisively and drags his fingers through his hair.

“Perhaps it does,” Caduceus says when Molly nods, looking forlorn but smiling all the same. 

Caleb exhales slowly through his lips and makes a small, thoughtful noise. He sits up on his knees and leans over the still fresh, bare earth of Molly’s grave so he can dig a small well in the dirt at the base of the headstone and drop the necklace in, covering it carefully and patting the little mound with his hand before pushing himself to his feet.

“Goodbye, Molly,” he mutters, laying his hand briefly on the headstone before swiping hastily under his eyes, blinking rapidly.

Molly slides down off the stone to stand in front of him, moving close so he can lean his forehead against Caleb's bowed one, not really touching him but closing his eyes and smiling nevertheless, his shape flickering like gold dust catching the sunlight filtering through the branches overhead.

"Goodbye, Caleb,” he breathes. He turns to look at Caduceus, expression sorrowful but grateful all the same. "Thank you. Help take care of him, yeah? He doesn't like to let people do it but he needs it sometimes."

Caduceus nods silently and Molly turns back to Caleb, whose eyes are closed, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. Molly touches his translucent hand to Caleb's cheek as if to brush it away, grimacing when his fingers pass through Caleb’s skin and it continues its path down his face. He touches his lips to Caleb’s cheek in the shade of a kiss instead, closing his eyes as a sudden, warm breeze blows its way through the cemetery. There’s a glow of pale gold that silhouettes him briefly followed by a scatter of sparkling light that dissipates like smoke, the wind sighing through the grass quietly. And then he’s gone.

Caduceus blinks, bewildered despite knowing it had been coming. He feels a sudden loss as he stares at the spot where Molly had stood, tempted to turn and peer around the rows of graves, expecting him to appear between them with a smirk though he knows he won’t. He glances back over his shoulder anyway. He’s alone with Caleb.

Caleb sniffs heartily and Caduceus turns back to him, something leaping in his chest as he looks up at him with a small, forlorn smile.

"Thank you,” he says. He sighs and rubs his hand over his jaw, frowning. “You know, I never caught your name." 

"Caduceus. Clay,” Caduceus replies, holding out his hand to allow Caleb to shake it. He does, firm and warm. 

"Well, Mister Clay,” Caleb says, smiling as he glances up at the clear sky, “if the offer still stands, I think I'll take that cup of tea now."


End file.
